


The Whys and the Why Nots

by tjs_whatnot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drama, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-02
Updated: 2008-12-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: What if Ron hadn’t gone to Bill and Fleur’s after leaving Harry and Hermione that fateful night? What if, instead, he had gone to someone he knew would help him get back, or someone who would give him a way to go on?





	The Whys and the Why Nots

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for LJ's Remus_ron_slash community

The frigid rain dripped off his ginger hair and the fabric of his t-shirt as Ronald Weasley stood outside the only house he could go. He went to the only man who could see his weakness, his failure and betrayal and tell him how to fix it, how to get back.

The door opened before Ron was ready to face anyone. It was too late; he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t slink back into the dark abyss of fear and shame.

“Ron, is that you? What happened? Where’s Harry?” Remus Lupin asked urgently.

The timbre of his voice and the obvious concern for Harry ate at Ron and filled him with yet more of the guilt that was consuming him. He slumped to the ground, right at Remus’ booted foot. He was still being pelted with rain, but he didn’t care. It felt good, as any discomfort did; he needed to be punished somehow.

Remus moved out of the protection of the overhanging shelter of his home and bent down to try to lift his distraught visitor. “Tell me what happened,” he said, trying to remain calm.

Ron understood then that Remus was thinking the worst, was thinking Harry was in trouble. He couldn’t talk through the sobs that were burning his throat and rocking his body. He tried to pantomime. He pulled at his chest to tell him that there had been a curse, a terrible curse put upon him. That he had seen and thought things that didn’t belong to him, and it had made him do the unconscionable.

 

 

Finally, Remus gave up trying to get Ron inside where is was dry and warm.

“Shhh, shhh,” Remus soothed, rocking them back and forth slightly. “Just tell me one thing. Is Harry…is he…still alive?”

With breath held, Remus waited for the answer, not knowing what he would do if it was no. He felt Ron nod and took a grateful deep breath, relaxing into Ron’s needy embrace.

For what seemed like hours, Remus allowed Ron to grieve on his doorstep until they were both drowned in rainwater and soaked in Ron’s tears. With hitched breaths and deep, swallows of air, Ron finally rose to his feet. Remus helped him up and supported him into the house, rekindling the dying fire wandlessly as he moved Ron close to it for heat.

 

After he had sat Ron on the rocking chair by the fire and wrapped a warm blanket around him, Remus went to the kitchen to hastily make some tea.

Ron sat, seemingly mesmerized by the fire. His whole body shook, and Remus worried for a moment about his china cup as he placed it gingerly in Ron’s hands. The shaking seemed to dissipate as Ron slurped loudly at the tea.

“What happened?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know. I just had to…had to get away. The voice was just filling me with so much doubt, with fear and just…just…rage. I couldn’t control it; I couldn’t get it to stop!” He was starting to get hysterical again, looking with pleading eyes to Remus, asking for forgiveness.

“Take your time,” Remus soothed. “It’s okay. As long as everyone is safe, you have all the time in the world to tell the story.”

“Everyone is safe. Now,” Ron answered and then looked around the small cabin. “Hey, where is Tonks?”

“She’s with her parents for a little while,” Remus said, in a voice that he very much hoped would seem off-hand.

“You know Harry didn’t mean any of those things he said.”

“Yes he did. And given the information he had, he was right. He just doesn’t…doesn’t…well let’s just say he doesn’t have all the facts about the situation.”

Ron looked relieved to be thinking of something other than his own dilemma. “What are all the facts?”

“You didn’t come here to hear that story,” Remus murmured. “Why did you come here?”

Ron shrugged and then mumbled, “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Anyone else who would help me.”

“Help you with what?”

“To get back. And if not that, to give me a task to accomplish that would help redeem me if and when I ever see them again.”

“You have to tell me what happened.”

Ron took a deep breath. He told Remus as much as he could without mentioning all the things he had sworn never to tell. Keeping the secrets seemed to be the only thing he could do for his friends. He made the task Dumbledore had set them sound like a sort of scavenger hunt; not mentioning what items were or what they held. He alluded to Dark Magic, but he did not give it a name. Mostly he talked about the endless camping, hunger, cold and irritation. Then he told him about the locket’s magic.

“So this, object…this thing…has a curse…and it made you see things, to feel things…”

Ron nodded, “Horrible things.”

“Like what?”

There was a long pause before Ron continued. “That I wasn’t good enough, that I was weak and pathetic and un…unlovable…and…and… things that I’ve thought myself, but it was saying it like everyone knew, like they knew the darkness and sickness in me. Like everyone felt them as well.”

“I can imagine the hell you went through.”

Ron looked up and studied Remus. “Can you?”

“The feeling that no matter what you do, it’s not good enough? The feeling that if people knew the real you, the you kept hidden from the world, they would be repulsed, would cringe away? Yes, I can imagine.”

“So, you’ll help me?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I’ll help you, in whatever way I can. But for now, drink your tea, eat your biscuits and let me fix up the guest room.”

For the first time in his life, Ron thought of Remus Lupin as a person, with his own mysteries, his own past filled with painful memories and immense losses. He instantly felt that he was in the exactly right place, and also guilty for putting even more suffering at the man’s feet.

***

The next morning, Ron woke to voices from the other room. His door was closed tight, so he made his way noiselessly to the door to try to listen. He recognized the two voices and slowly, silently opened the door a wedge so better to listen.

“You need to get your mind back on task, Remus. Whatever is going on with Dora, you need to deal with it. Kingsley is worried about your ability to do your job,” Bill Weasley said.

There was a growl. “You tell Kingsley that I have been doing my job for longer than he’s been hexing pimples off his greasy face and that my family situation doesn’t affect my ability any more than his lack of having a life affects his.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I’m not saying any of that. But I will tell him you have everything under control. You do, don’t you?”

Remus said something that Ron couldn’t quite make out, but it sounded guttural. To Ron’s surprise, Bill returned the sentiment with his own growl. Just when Ron was about to go out and see if he was going to have to stop a dogfight, he heard a door slam. He waited a moment before leaving his room.

“Good morning,” he said as he made his way into Remus’ kitchen, running a hand through his hair and pulling on his shirt with the other.

Remus’ back was to him so Ron couldn’t see his expression, but by Remus’ quick, overly light response, he was obviously trying to avoid any further discussion with another Weasley.

“Hey, good morning. Care for some breakfast? Eggs? Bacon? Pumpkin juice? How does that sound?”

Ron’s knees grew weak at the mention of decent food that didn’t include shrubbery. “That would be lovely.”

Half an hour later, Remus watched Ron devour his food with fascination. “Hungry?”

“U ‘ave nah i-dee,” Ron answered, mouth full, in between moans of pleasure.

Remus grew a bit uncomfortable with this display and got up to leave the man to rhapsodize over his breakfast in private.

After his meal, Ron found  Remus outside chopping wood. “What are you doing?”

“It’s getting colder; we’ll need more wood for tonight, and then we can set out for the search tomorrow.”

“No, I mean why are you chopping wood without magic?” Ron clarified. He watched Remus struggling with the axe and knew that it wasn’t something he did on a regular basis.

“I don’t know. I just needed something physical to…to…distract myself,” Remus said, losing his voice at the end.

“Why?” Ron asked.

Ignoring the question, Remus asked one of his own, “So, where should we be looking for Harry and Hermione?”

“It’s going to be hard to find them. They have incredibly strong protections. I know they’ve moved from where we were. I think our best bet will be to go where I’m pretty sure they will eventually go.”

“Where’s…hun…that?” Remus asked between swings.

“Godric’s Hollow.”

“Hun…of course.”

Ron stood watching Remus, mesmerized. The beads of sweat fell from the man’s temple as he breathed deep and raised the ax over his head, the cords of muscle on his neck pulsing as he swung forcefully, the wood exploding in two by his power.

_You’re disgusting,_ the voices returned, as if Ron still had the locket, still held the curse around his throat. _If anyone knew the level of your depravity…knew what you’re deepest thoughts, your deepest desires were…disgusting, disgusting…_

“Ron! What’s wrong?”

Remus had dropped his axe and was coming towards him hurriedly. It was then that Ron realized he had dropped to his knees, pulling violently on his shirt again, trying to get the curse off his chest.

Taking Ron’s shoulders Remus shook him forcefully but not painfully. “Ron! Stop it! You’re fine! It’s not going to get you! Nothing is going to get you!”

Remus seemed to be screaming against the voices inside Ron’s head and eventually, his voice won out. With deep breaths, Ron stood up, ran his hands through his hair and shrugged off Remus’ hands. “Thanks. I’m sorry. I’m fine.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Remus broke it. “Good, glad to hear it. So you can help me bring this wood in?”

Almost mustering up a smile, Ron said, “Sure. No problem.”

***

They spent the rest of the day preparing the cabin for abandonment. After dinner, which Remus was glad to see Ron ingested without being obscene, they sat at the fire with glasses of Firewhisky. They both seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.  
   
“Why isn’t Tonks here with you?” Ron asked.

At the same time, Remus asked his own question. “Why’d you come to me, not your family?”

They both studied each other, waiting for the other to answer their question. Finally, Ron shrugged and said, “They wouldn’t understand, and I knew you would.”

“I see,” Remus said slowly. “You knew I’d understand about being weak and running away from your responsibilities more than they would?”

Ron looked hurt, but answered, “No, I thought you would understand that need to sacrifice anything, to fight and die for people you have already lost. That you would help me no matter the danger, no matter how hopeless.”

“I do understand. And, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to call you weak.”

“I know. But, you know, you weren’t just calling me weak; you were applying it to yourself. I think you’re anything but weak.” Ron swallowed, as if he’d said too much. “It’s just that you told Harry that you wanted to help, that you would do anything to help, so I knew I could come to you and ask.”

“Of course,” Remus said, looking into the fire.

There was a long silence.

“So, why is Tonks not here?” Ron asked again.

For a long time, Ron was sure he wasn’t going to get an answer. Finally, Remus took a long drink of his glass of Firewhisky.

“It’s not safe. I’m not safe,” Remus answered, but he sounded evasive.

“What do you mean? It’s not the full moon.”

“No, you wouldn’t…can’t…never mind.”

“Wow. And I thought I had trouble talking.”

“You have trouble talking?”

Ron smirked at him. “Thanks.”

“No, I wasn’t being cheeky. I just realized, I don’t know that much about you. I know you’re Harry’s friend; I know you’re Arthur and Molly’s son; I know there’s something going on with you and Hermione…”

“There’s noth… oh, forget it.”

Remus didn’t seem to hear the interruption. He filled his glass again. “In fact, I don’t even know Harry that well. Not as well as I wish I did. What’s he like? What are you like?”

Ron watched him take another drink from his glass. “You’re drunk!”

Remus looked affronted, but the expression didn’t last long. A big grin soon replaced it. “Shh, don’t tell anyone. They all think I’m an upstanding indi…indi…person. They’d be shocked to find me like this.”

“I’m a little shocked myself,” Ron said, trying to sound stern.

“There are many things about me that would shock the masses,” Remus mumbled.

“Like what?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you can’t say something like that and just drop it.”

“I can and I will.”

“Something more shocking than being a werewolf?”

“Drop it.”

“Just answer that one question; these things that would shock the masses, are they more shocking than being a werewolf?” Ron pushed.

Remus thought for a moment. “Well, I guess there is nothing more shocking than being a werewolf. So no, but still…”

“Yes?”

“Forget it.”

Ron didn’t even know why he was pushing the subject, other than it fascinated him, and it kept his mind off his own problems.

“You brought it up. If you’d rather tell me why Tonks is at her parents' house?”

Remus looked confused and didn’t notice that Ron had again filled his glass. “Were we talking about that?”

“Yes,” Ron lied. “You said that she wasn’t safe.”

Remus’ head lolled as if he was losing bones in his neck. “I’m a miserable bastard.”

“Surely you wouldn’t hurt her intentionally?” Ron asked, feeling he knew at least that much about his former professor.

“No. Not physically, of course not. Not any other way either…intentionally…but…but…”

“What?” Ron wanted to scream but contained himself. He felt he was on the edge of a discovery that could change everything.

“I’m not what she thought I was, not what she thought she needed.”

“What did she think she needed?”

Remus took another large swallow of whisky, not even winching at the burn anymore. “She needed to love someone who could love her back the same way.”

Ron had to lean forward to hear him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him to repeat himself. He whispered too, “And you can’t? You’ve tried?”

“I’ve tried. I’ve tried to go against everything that I am, and I do love her, more than I’ve…more than I’ve…” he struggled, swallowed again and again and then continued, “loved any woman, but it’s not enough; it will never be enough. She has finally come to realize…”

“You’re gay.”

It wasn’t a question; it wasn’t even a statement. It was a piece of a puzzle falling into place. It left Ron feeling an unexplainable sense of weightlessness. It was like a question he had been too terrified to ask of himself was being answered by the man opposite him. Ron recognized both the tortured look in Remus’ eyes of a secret being illuminated against your will and the freedom of that secret’s release.

It was a long moment before they even looked at each other. Then Remus raised his half-filled glass sloppily. “I can sure keep a secret, can’t I?”

“Well, you did go the extra step of actually marrying and impregnating a girl, so yeah, you are the master of subterfuge.”

Remus turned serious for a moment, but the alcohol didn’t seem to allow him to take offense. “Just one of the many tricks up my sleeve. That was all…all…a terrible accident.”

“How does one marry someone on accident?”

“Getting married wasn’t the accident, smartarse; the _needing_ to get married was where I slipped up. It was just that one time. I was drunk, depressed; we had just buried what I thought was our last hope of winning the war, and I needed someone who understood.”

“One time? It only happened one time?”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, despite what they are teaching you, it only takes once.”

Ron smirked. “Yeah, but what are the odds? I mean really?”

“Yes, it’s true; I do have the absolutely worst luck in the world. But there it is. She’s pregnant, I’m the father, and despite whatever else I am, I am an honorable man.”

“So you gave up your life and everything that you are to do the right thing?” Ron asked.

“I tried.”

“What happened?”

“Dora decided, and I agreed; she deserves better.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means that she is living with her parents again, and I am sitting alone in a cabin drinking myself to sleep and feeling more and more useless by the minute,” Remus said in one shaky breath.

Ron watched Remus torture himself before taking a swig of his own glass of Firewhisky and smiling. “Well, it’s a good thing I came when I did, huh?”

Remus looked incredulous before an inexplicable smile spread across his face. “Yes, it is a good thing you came when you did. A reason to live and all, I suppose that is a good thing.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

The rest of the night was spent in silent contemplation and mumbled attempts of conversation. In the end, Ron wound up helping Remus to his room and tucking him into his bed.

“Yoush a good boy, yaknow?” Remus slurred, hugging his pillow.

“Yeah, that’s me, a good boy,” Ron answered, bringing the blankets up to Remus’ chin. Then, without even thinking about it, leaning in and kissing Remus’ forehead gently.

“Thanks Da,” Remus sighed with a deep breath.

Ron counted ‘til three before Remus’ eyes sprang open. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You kissed me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not drunk enough to imagine things.”

“Really?” Ron leaned down and kissed the bridge of Remus’ nose. “You sure?”

Remus swallowed. “Are you drunk?”

Ron touched his lips to Remus’ chin. “Perhaps a little.”

“Is that why you’re kissing me?”

Before answering, Ron lightly pecked his lips against the corner of Remus’ lip. “Maybe it’s the reason I’m brave enough, but it’s not the reason I want to.”

Remus swallowed, biting his lip as if to either hide the temptation from Ron or to stop his own temptation. “Why do you want to?”

Ron shrugged and kissed Remus’ cheekbone, one then the other, “Do you want me to stop?”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time, then Remus looked away and sighed, “Yes.”

Ron closed his eyes to hide his disappointment and hurt. Resting his forehead on Remus’, he asked, “You sure?”

Taking Ron’s face in his hands, forcing him to look into Remus’ eyes, Remus smiled. “When you can answer the why and you don’t have to drink to be brave, then my answer might be different. Until then, go to bed. We have work to do tomorrow.”

Ron nodded.

***

The next morning, Remus stumbled out of his room holding his head and wincing when he walked by a window and was hit by the sunlight streaming in.

“Good morning,” Ron called from the kitchen, holding up a pot and looking overly refreshed. “Coffee?”

Remus covered his ears, “Shhhh.”

Pouring a cup, Ron smiled and handed it to Remus. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Remus sat down at the kitchen table and watched Ron work on breakfast. “How can you function?”

Ron laughed. “Unlike you, I didn’t drink my weight in booze last night. I feel fine. In fact, I’m going to hop over to Diagon Alley today and get some stuff.”

Remus spluttered his coffee, then swore at the mess. “You’re going to what?”

“I need to get something.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you. I just need some information.”

“In Diagon Alley? Are you crazy?”

“I’ve been accused of it from time to time, but if I were really crazy, would I know I was crazy?”

Remus ignored this. “How do you expect to just walk into Diagon Alley? I don’t know if you know this from whatever rock the three of you have been living under, but the times have changed. Everyone knows your face, knows your name and knows your story. You can’t be suffering from Spattergroit and shopping in Diagon Alley.”

“Ah see, there’s this new thing, maybe you haven’t heard of it, it’s called _magic_. It’s all the rage. It turns out that there are magical ways to disguise oneself if one has these special abil—”

“Sod off.”

Ron laughed. Remus studied him, mystified. “Are you always this bright and perky in the morning?”

“Me? Hardly ever. But last night I had this great dream and it just filled me with complete awe of the universe.”

“And what was this dream about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ron said as he placed two plates of breakfast down on the table and went for the coffee pot, tousling Remus’ hair playfully as he passed.

_Uh-oh._

“Speaking of dreams…” Remus started, but he looked at Ron’s face opposite him now, his lips spread in an expectant smile. He felt those lips softly on his forehead and realized that last night had not been a dream.

_Uh-oh._

“So, how are you planning to get into Diagon Alley undetected?” Remus asked, deciding it would be best to change the subject for a while.

“Well, there is Hermione’s old standby of Polyjuice. Personally, I think she likes that method as it shows off the fact that she was making it perfectly at twelve. But, seeing as how I don’t have a handy vat of that— you don’t have any do you?”

“Nope, fresh out.”

“Ah, pity that. Oh well, I’ll just have to be cleverer.”

In the end, Remus, while repeatedly saying this was against his better judgment, helped Ron cast a Disillusionment charm and showed him how to keep it intact for longer periods of time, just in case.

“Now this won’t conceal you entirely, especially if you’re out in the sunlight,” Remus warned.

“Well it’s a good thing these are dark days then, huh?” Ron said, mesmerized with his own appearance’s natural blend to its surroundings.

“I really wish you’d let me go for you. If you would tell me what you needed I—”

“Nice try. You’re just as targeted as I am. Besides, you wouldn’t know what to look for.”

“What are you looking for?” Remus asked.

Ron tucked his wand into his jacket pocket. “A book.”

“A book?” Remus asked incredulously. However, before he got an answer, Ron waved, turned with a crack and Disapparated.

Remus spent the next two hours pacing back and forth. When he was through with that, he left the cabin and walked around the lake, thinking of Ron. Thinking of Ron showing up at his house, thinking of Ron sleeping in his guest bedroom, thinking of Ron sharing a bottle of Firewhisky and talking, and finally when he couldn’t resist any longer, thinking of Ron kissing him. What did that mean?

_Am I that loathsome that sympathetic boys, children really, feel the urge to comfort me with affection?_

He stopped walking. _Was that it? Did boys—children really—just kiss you because they felt sorry for you? No, there had to be something else._ For the life of him, though, Remus could not imagine what was in it for Ron. It was the _why_ that was going to kill him.

He went back to the house to do busy work and get his mind off things.

_Why?_

He packed his bags for a long trip, just in case Harry and Hermione proved to be as elusive now as they had in the past.

_Why?_

He wrote a letter to Kingsley and attempted to write one to Dora.

_Why?_

Cursing, he crumpled the letter. _It doesn’t matter why. Whatever he’s thinking, it doesn’t have anything to do with me. He has his own struggles, obviously, and I can’t be a part of it._ He laughed. _If Dora was too young and beautiful then this boy—child really—was WAY too much of both._

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Remus jumped and turned with his wand pointed.

Ron held up his hands, one of which was grasping a large book. “Easy there. Weren’t you expecting me?”

“Hours ago. You weren’t detected?”

“Oh, you missed me.”

“Hardly.”

“You’ve gotten grouchy in your old age.”

“You’re aging me years by the minute.”

They both tried very hard to glare at each other, but the smiles won out.

“Did you get what you needed?”

Ron held up his book again. “Yep.”

Taking the book, Remus looked at him incredulously. “ _Beedle the Bard_? Are you serious? You don’t know these stories by heart? And why, with all that is going on in the world, do you need a children’s book?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me?” Remus asked.

“There are things Dumbledore told Harry and told Harry he could tell us but no one else.”

“Don’t you think that there would have come a time when Albus would have known that was no longer a good idea?” Remus asked in what he thought was a good argument.

“Don’t you think that if he had, he would have told us? Oh by the way, if I die before the end, by all means, share this with everyone,” Ron said in an eerie mimicry of Dumbledore’s voice.

Remus glowered at him, fighting hard not to smile. He knew then that he was going to be in trouble the more he spent time with this exuberant force.

“Well, I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.”

Ron smirked. “I guess that goes for both of us, huh?”

Remus cleared his throat awkwardly. “Should we be going?”

“Yep, I’m still packed. Have you been in the area lately? Is there a place for us to stay? I really don’t want to camp anymore.”

“Yeah, there’s an inn. We can drop by Bathilda’s too. If Harry’s been there, she’d know.”

“Bathilda Bagshot? Yes, we definitely have to talk to her.” Ron was getting excited about how right it felt to be going, and to be going with Remus.

***

The first disappointment of their arrival in Godric’s Hollow was that the fog of Dementors hovered around the place. They were both casting Patronus’ throughout the day to function. The second, and more important disappointment to Ron, who had gotten used to being locked in a dissatisfied funk, was that Bathilda Bagshot was dead. Had died a few weeks before, taking with her any secrets and stories they might have found useful.

Ron realized though, being there in that place with a man who walked around like he was strolling down a long forgot memory lane, there were questions that could be answered and wondered why Harry had never asked before.

After a few attempts though, Ron discovered that Remus didn’t like to talk about the past—unless he’d had a few drinks first. They started spending a lot of time in the pub downstairs from their rooms. It was after a few rounds that Ron could get him talking. Remus told Ron stories of school days and boys being boys, then it would always end with Ron carrying Remus back up the stairs, tucking him into bed and kissing him goodnight.

There were some questions that Ron didn’t even think he wanted to know until recently. He saved those ones for the time when Remus would be sitting in the chair fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Were you and Sirius…um…lovers?”

Remus laughed and that was Ron’s sign that he’d had just enough to drink.

“You would think, right? Both bachelors and everything. But no, Sirius was extremely straight, to my everlasting disappointment.”

“You had feelings for your best friend?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, unrequited. Can you imagine?” Remus asked and then looked at Ron, whose face seemed to put all the puzzle pieces together for Remus. “Ah ha, how long have you had feelings for Harry?”

“What? Harry? Me? No…uh…well…not long.”

“How long have you known you were gay?”

Ron took a swallow of his whisky. “I didn’t know for absolutely sure until very recently, I thought it was just something to do with Harry, with friendship and some sort of rebelling against what everyone assumes of me. I mean, I love Hermione, truly, and I know what everyone thinks, but it’s never been that way between us; she knows that. Her being as clever as she is, she probably knew it ages before I did.”

Remus laughed and refilled their glasses.

Ron thought, with a laugh of his own, that by the time that Remus let him into his life for more then a few peck each night, they would both be alcoholics. Each night, Ron would tuck his drunken guardian into bed and every night he would kiss him, and kiss him again and again, each time a bit longer, a bit more tender. Then, every night Remus would push him away, ask him that damned question, _why,_ and send Ron out.

Ron was starting to know the answer, but it was more enjoyable to wear down Remus’ defenses, to chip away at his calm. To have Remus give him a bit more allowance each night. This way, when he finally did have the courage to say it aloud, it would be unnecessary, it would be understood.

***

About once a week, Remus would leave for some Order business, and Ron would wait anxiously for him to return. Sometimes Ron would wander through the village. One night, he found himself at the cemetery gates and was torn between the desire to see where Harry’s parents rested and the feeling that it just wasn’t right without Harry. He went to the pub instead.

He spent many of his solitary nights walking through the village, then to the pub, then back to the rooms they had let.

One night, when Remus was later than usual, and Ron was getting incredibly antsy without him, not being able to remember a time when Remus wasn’t one of the most important people in his life, he heard something that sounded like his name.

It sounded like Remus’ voice, so he went looking for it. He went to the front door in hopes that Remus would be on the porch calling for him. There was no one there, and Ron knew that wasn’t where the voice had come from; it had come from his bag, but that was impossible.

Then he heard it again, and this time he found the source of the voice, and it made no more sense, but he picked up his Deluminator anyway, mystified, but determined. He clicked it, expecting nothing more than it to eat a light or two. Instead, it glowed. While he was completely mystified, a ball of light came from it and hovered before him. Spellbound, he watched it approach him and then in a blink, it was no longer in front of him, but in him. He felt its glow vibrate through him, warming him from the inside.

Trusting nothing but that the feeling he had was true, he turned and with a pop Disapparated.

He found himself beside the sea, with only a faint light from a kitchen window in the distance illuminating the night. He knew Remus was in there, but he didn’t know who else was with him. Obviously, Remus had a reason for speaking his name and as much as Ron wanted to discover why he’d felt summoned to be there, he didn’t have the desire to enter that house and admit that he had let everyone down. Having Remus know them was bad enough.

He sat on a hill outside the house, watching people depart, waiting for one figure among them. When it seemed that every other person had left, he finally saw the door open one last time to release the man he had waited for, the one he had come for.

When he was sure that Remus was alone, he approached him.  
   
"What are you...how did you...are you okay?" Remus asked.  
   
"What am I doing here? I had to come, to see what this could do." He held up his Deluminator. "I'll explain it later, I'll explain everything. But to the question of me being okay?" He took Remus' face in his hands and kissed him hard before Remus could be shocked or try to stop him.

The fear of rejection, of being pushed away once again didn’t last long, just until Remus wrapped his own arms around Ron and finally, _finally,_ returned the kiss.

“Do you want to know why?” Ron asked after they had broken apart to catch their breaths.

Remus looked into his eyes for what seemed like forever before shaking his head. “No.”

He embraced Ron, and spinning them both together, Apparated them back to the inn.  
   
Once inside the warmth and familiarity of their secluded room, Remus became hesitant. “Are you sure?”

“Sure I want to be with you? Yes. I’m nervous, scared even, but I know it’s right, just as I know it has to be you.”

“My, but you are young.”

“Not so young that I don’t know what I want.”

“And you want me?”

Ron wrapped his arms around Remus again, holding him tight, feeling his heartbeat, his breath inhaling and exhaling, wanting to feel all of that and more.

“Yes.”

Remus looked like he was biting his lip to ask the dreaded question, but Ron kissed him instead, tucked him into bed, kissed him some more, and this time, Remus didn’t push him away. Instead he wrapped himself around Ron, bringing them together on the bed.

 

Remus was just as Ron imagined he would be—kind and gentle. He was slow and delicious, and Ron was amazed by Remus’ ability to make him feel with every touch, caress and kiss. It was nothing like he’d imagined and more then he’d ever dreamed. And, when they were both sated and sleepy, they curled themselves against each other and fell into a deep, restful sleep.

Ron woke up a few hours later and smiled into Remus arm that was draped over his head awkwardly and yet, comfortingly. The night before him played out in his mind. In the re-imagining of Remus’ touch, he almost forgot about the Deluminator’s odd function. But now, he pondered the peculiarity with a strong sense of hope. If it really brought him to where he needed to be, if someone really wanted him and said his name aloud, then when Harry and Hermione needed him, he would be able to find them.

He snuggled into Remus; until then, he could wait quite happily. Drifiting back to sleep, he couldn't even imagine the voice in his head telling him that _this_ was wrong.

The next morning, Ron hesitated for a moment in opening his eyes. He wanted to be the first one awake, to watch Remus sleep, because it was only in sleep that Remus looked truly peaceful. He peeked with one eye. Remus was watching him. The look on his face was not what he was expecting.

_Uh-oh._

“Is this were you tell me you’ve made a grave mistake?” Ron whispered.

“That predictable?” Remus sighed.

“I’ve had a long time to study your face, to read its meanings.”

“And what does this face mean?”

Ron sighed, running his finger along Remus’ temple down his cheek, along his lips. “It means you’ve found the Why Not.”

Remus smiled sadly. Ron’s smile wasn’t melancholy at all, instead it was cunning. He leaned and kissed Remus, licking Remus’ lips open with his tongue, working his long fingers up his arm and neck, bringing them around to the back of his head and pulling him reluctantly into the kiss.

“Don’t you want to hear the reasons?” Remus asked when Ron finally pulled his tongue out of his mouth.

Ron began nibbling on Remus’ earlobe. “I’m all ears.” He ran his tongue along his neck, kissing his collarbone. “You wouldn’t let me kiss you until I told you knew why.” He kissed his throat and then ran his tongue along the other side of his neck. “I won’t stop until you give me a reason why not.” He sucked on Remus’ other ear, then nibbled on the lobe. “A _valid_ reason.”

Remus closed his eyes, as if blocking away the pleasurable sensation. “I’m a werewolf.”

“So? Are you going to ravage me?” Ron asked with a smirk, kissing Remus’ chin.

Remus swallowed. “I could.”

“I know you can. I remember last night.” He kissed Remus’ shoulder.

“Very funny. I mean, as a werewolf, I could ravage you.”

“Did you ever _ravage_ Dora?” He kissed Remus’ other shoulder.

Remus sighed. “Okay, how about that then, I’m married.”

Looking at him with a ”You must be joking,“ expression, Ron did not even dignify that excuse with a response, instead kissing Remus’ chest in loud, wet smacks.

“You’re too young.” Remus said, trying a different tact.

“I’m an adult,” Ron answered indignant, stopping his tongue’s descent.

“Yes, and you have been one for about a week and a half.”

“So what?” Ron asked, kissing his way down Remus abdomen.

Biting his lip, Remus fought against the erection that was beginning to betray his argument. “Okay, how about because I’m too old.”

“Too old for what?” Ron slid down the bed so that his arms could wrap around Remus’ thighs and rested his head on Remus’ pelvis. “Too old to feel this?” He took Remus’ hand and kissing the palm, placed it over his heart.

Remus moaned in aggravation that signaled he was about to give in. “Why are all the people who want to love me so young and beautiful?”

Ron laughed at the resigned surrender in Remus’ exclamation. “It’s not our fault all your contemporaries are either no longer with us or are greasy gits.”

A moment passed where Ron held his breath, thinking he had gone too far, thinking that this man might not get his particular sense of humor yet. But, the belly laugh that rumbled against his cheek calmed him. It was like a dam that had finally deteriorated, and Remus couldn’t stop himself. His contentment rained down on Ron, showering him in the satisfaction of winning. Sitting up to look at Remus smile, the mirth in his eyes, he knew that no matter what else happened in the coming days, months and years, there would be no more questions of why and why not.  
 


End file.
